


the world is not enough

by ElasticElla



Category: Scandal (TV)
Genre: F/F, Post-Season/Series 05A
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-23
Updated: 2016-01-23
Packaged: 2018-05-15 18:53:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5795920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElasticElla/pseuds/ElasticElla
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The last thing Mellie expects to find under her Christmas tree is a jar of apple moonshine.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the world is not enough

The last thing Mellie expects to find under her Christmas tree is a jar of apple moonshine. It's a little too classy to be called hooch, and she knows by looking at it, it'll be even sweeter than apple pie. Only her Dad ever gave her hooch, and this year she wasn't seeing him until the first. 

She should be passed out by now, after her filibuster, after standing for so long. There's an energy, an excitement that's been pulsing through her since her victory, and the timing's irony doesn't escape her. So she's kneeling by the Christmas tree, Teddy long asleep, reading the tag on her new moonshine instead: _You were right -Liv_

Mellie finally goes to bed, lips curled up into a content smile. 

She was going to be president one day.

.

Olivia wakes up December 26th ready to work. She doesn't want to think about a lack of rings on her fingers, or how much she's missed her bed, or how much she hates sleeping alone. All she wants is to throw herself into a new project, something heavy and long-lasting. 

She needs to feel fresh air, needs to dance on her own. 

Olivia gets the text halfway to OPA, not from Quinn but from Mellie- _thank you, we're square_. And she stops in the middle of the street, laughs, and changes course. Her path seems so obvious now, and she feels foolish for not anticipating it.

Mellie isn't in yet, at some meeting or other- Olivia's pretty sure it's with the Senate women. Most of them will be trying to discretely kiss her ass, kicking themselves for underestimating the former First Lady. It was time to put her initiative in place, time to-

“Olivia, I saw the news this morning. You didn't last long.” 

There's a slight smile on Mellie's face, and she's actually sincere. It's a relief, will make everything easier. 

“You're going to hire me.” 

“I-”

“You won't be hiring my staff directly, I'll consult with them from my old office which will no longer take new clients. Having me on your payroll makes it abundantly clear you are not a woman scorned, you are the modern and moderate republican woman- and the nomination is yours.” 

Mellie crosses her arms, smiling. “And here I was ready to beg.”

Olivia's eyebrows betray her surprise for a split-second. “You still can.” 

“I was going to start with an apology for my past behavior. I've… I placed all the blame on you for the affair, because I didn't want to believe Fitz had given up on us. And then I tried telling myself that I didn't care since he still came home to me, and- my treatment of you has been appalling, I hope you can forgive me one day.” 

Olivia blinks slow, weighing her words. “And what if that hadn't been enough?” 

Millie shrugs, “Then I would have reminded you bringing a second president to the white house would restore your reputation.”

“And then?” 

Millie's lips quirk up into a smile. “And then I would remind you how much more work I would get done in that oval, and ask you to imagine how much we could get done together. We could do anything.” 

.

Mellie's campaign is a hell of a lot more fun to run than Fitz's was. It doesn't hurt that Mellie's politics are closer to her own, or that somehow over the months they go from tentative allies to actual friends. It definitely doesn't hurt that she doesn't have a sinking feeling of guilt in the pit of her stomach. If someone had told Olivia a year ago that she'd move out of the white house and go work for Mellie, she would have called them delusional. 

Her Dad calls her after they win New Hampshire, says, “Tell me you're not still trying to be First Lady.” 

And Olivia's seen the photos, heard the rumors- but they were always just laughed off, not nearly serious. Who would ever start dating their ex-husband's mistress? And moreover, _lesbians_? As if, they were just friends- a prime example of the extraordinary power of female friendship. 

It's an accusation Olivia hasn't been allowing herself to think about. There weren't that many great ways to spin it, certainly not while trying to take the white house. 

“We're going to run the world together.” 

She doesn't deny the other thing, and her father sighs and reminds her he'll be in town for this Sunday's dinner. 

.

They win. 

They win and Mellie kisses her in front of _everyone_ , cameras flashing. Her eyes are sparkling, and she turns to the room with a coy smile. 

“You'll have to excuse me, I've been waiting a very long time to do that.” 

And then Mellie launches into the acceptance speech they created, and Olivia basks in her glow, unable to look away. 

Mellie is real like Fitz never was, and whole without her like Jake couldn't be. They're both politicians that used to play at being décor, and she's never felt so safe or understood. 

The crowd erupts in cheers, and for once, Olivia _knows_ she isn't going to run. 

.

Olivia is waiting in the oval, naked on the couch. She's already told Gina, the person checking security tapes in the morning, that tonight's will need to be trashed. 

It feels like a reclamation, lounging on the couch like this, like she wasn't a guest anymore. 

Mellie comes in, stilettos clicking, with a huge smile as she kneels before her. 

“I still can't believe this isn't a dream,” Mellie says, and Olivia sits up. 

“Have a lot of dreams with us here?” 

“Cute,” Mellie says, hands clasping her knees, and thumbs rubbing small warm circles. “I haven't had a chance to properly thank you,” she breathes, kissing up her right leg. 

Olivia's tempted to push her, to say Mellie eats her out far too often for this to be a thank you, but she's speaking again, warm exhales teasingly close to her clit. 

“Tomorrow afternoon, you and me and a hundred tiny Icelandic horses.”

She gasps, only half because Mellie's thumbs have slid up to hold her lips apart, and her tongue is licking, hot quick stripes against her labia. 

“You want to update our trade agreement with them, a strong first step.”

“We can do it,” she says, slipping two fingers up and in, kissing her thigh. “Liv, I don't care if there's no second term, we're having the strongest four years possible.”

There are three little words stuck in the back of her throat, and Olivia pulls Mellie up onto her lap instead, kissing her fiercely. 

“The strongest.”


End file.
